The Return of Walter Mashburn
by Vinividivinci
Summary: The title says it all. Walter Mashburn returns, his eye still on Teresa.


**_Just rewatched "Red Hot" with Walter Mashburn (hated the ending - thought it was really OOC for Lisbon) and this one-shot is the result. Just a short one because I need regular doses of TM to keep me going._**

 ** _NOT MINE, NEVER MINE except in my dreams._**

"Patrick Jane! What are you doing here?"

"Mashburn," Jane answered, lifting his head from the menu he was holding. He squinted, as Walter Mashburn stood framed in the sun's glare. "I'm about to have a cup of tea. What are _you_ doing here?"

The rich businessman/playboy grinned and grabbed the chair opposite Jane and pulled it out. "Can I join you?" Before Jane had a chance to answer Walter had plunked himself down in the chair.

"Be my guest," Patrick said, looking at the other man with little or no expression.

"So – my question. What are you doing here in California? The last I heard weren't you on the run from the FBI?"

"No, I'm actually working for them."

"You're _working_ for them? How the hell did you manage that? I mean, I heard you killed that serial killer – congratulations by the way - and had to flee the country." He frowned suddenly. "You could have called me you know. I would have helped you."

"Why thank you," Jane nodded at his companion. "That's decent of you Walter, but I made out just fine."

"Had your escape route all planned, did you?"

"Mmm. One can never be too prepared," Patrick answered with a small grin.

"That's what I always say. Still, I'd love to hear how you managed to get by the FBI."

When Jane simply shrugged, unwilling to tell his secrets, Mashburn sighed but then leaned forward, curiosity in his voice. "So, how _did_ you end up working for them? I mean, I'm happy for you, but they don't usually hire fugitive murderers."

"They didn't because I wasn't."

"Wasn't what? A fugitive or a murderer?"

"Either. I left the country because I - needed a rest. It was a busy few years with the CBI."

"Needed a rest?" Walter snorted. "Right – in Venezuela?"

"Beautiful country."

"So," Walter sighed, "are you going to tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

His brows beginning to descend in slight irritation – something Walter didn't usually allow himself – he asked the question again. "How is it you're working for the FBI, because I _know_ you were a fugitive. I have my sources."

"Sources? Okay fine. I'll grant you that it was – better – for me to leave the country, but only for a short time until the FBI realized their mistake. They eventually came around and offered me a job."

"Right – a mistake!" Mashburn grinned again. "Tell the truth - they just figured you were too valuable an asset to let rot in jail, didn't they?"

"I wasn't _in_ jail. I was in a tropical paradise."

"Which I'm sure felt like jail after a while. You can't tell me that you didn't grow to hate being stuck there, not able to go anywhere because of extradition."

Just then the waitress appeared so Jane wasn't forced to comment. "Hello," he smiled at the woman. "I'll have a hot tea – Oolong if you have it. And can you please make sure the water is fully boiled and put in the tea immediately. Please don't bring me a pot of lukewarm water and a tea bag. And bring me some milk too please."

"Got it," the waitress smiled as she wrote everything down. "Anything else?"

"Yes, a decaf iced coffee with cream. And would you bring a piece of your cherry pie with ice cream."

"One decaf iced coffee with cream and cherry pie with ice cream."

"I don't want a decaf coffee," Mashburn complained, "although the pie sounds good".

"Would you like something Sir?" the waitress asked.

"Uh yeah – a regular coffee and one of those pieces of pie."

"So," Walter continued, after the waitress had left, "you're working for the FBI", he commented redundantly. "Here in California?"

"No, I'm in Austin, Texas."

"You're in _Texas_?" Mashburn laughed. "Where are your cowboy boots?"

"Contrary to popular opinion, many people in Texas do not wear cowboy boots. And Austin is nice – very nice."

"Really? I wouldn't have thought of you living there. But if you like it, that's good. Still – working for the FBI. That's crazy Patrick."

"It isn't where I expected my life to go, I must admit. But it's – good," his lips lifted slightly as he looked directly at the other man.

"I'm glad for you. I know – well, I know what happened to you and it's great that things are working out." Mashburn sat for a moment, biting his lip and looking unusually uncertain. With a sudden resolve he spoke.

"How's Teresa? I know she ended up in Washington," he continued without waiting for an answer. "I tried to contact her but she wouldn't return my calls. I figured she was hurting over the Blake thing and the break up of the CBI."

Jane pursed his lips and nodded. His hands suddenly became busy folding and refolding the napkin in front of him.

"She's some woman," Walter continued seriously. "I figure I made a huge mistake in letting her go without trying to get to know her better. We would have been good together."

The hands across from him stopped folding the napkin – for a brief moment – and then resumed. Mashburn didn't notice.

"Yeah – she's a gorgeous woman all right, and smart, really smart." He grinned. "Most of the women I know aren't that – smart."

"No? If I remember correctly you favored form over substance," Patrick said, with a raised eyebrow.

"Unfortunately true," the wealthy playboy nodded. "Maybe I'll try and look her up again, see if I can convince her to give me a chance. I'm sure by now she's over what happened. What do you think Patrick?"

"Do I think she's over it? I expect so."

"No, I mean do you think I should give it a go? I could offer her – well – anything she wanted. Maybe she'd like to sail on my yacht!"

"No, I don't think so."

"No," Walter frowned, "why not?"

Patrick opened his mouth to explain why Mashburn shouldn't look her up, but then stopped, an impish look in his eyes. "She gets sea sick."

"Really? – I didn't know that. Well maybe we could go to a tropical island – like you did," he grinned. "I actually own one, you know."

"You do? But no, she'd get bored in no time."

"Do you think so? But I _would_ like to see her in a bikini," Walter smirked, "or _out_ of a bikini. She's got a really hot -"

"Here's my tea," Jane interrupted as he saw the waitress approach. The two men sat quietly as the drinks and pies were placed in front of them. It was only after she left that Mashburn continued.

"You know Teresa better than me, Patrick, so tell me what would she like? How do I entice her to give me a chance?"

Jane's eyebrow went up.

"I don't think I'm really the person you should ask, Mashburn," Patrick commented calmly.

"Hey, I'm not asking about the romance part of it because I know you don't – that's not – I mean, I wouldn't ask you."

"Why not?" Jane frowned, looking slightly indignant.

"Well because – you and Teresa were more like brother and sister and that would be– yuck. I just meant – what kinds of things does she like to do? What would impress her?"

"Oh, _that's_ what you meant. Well, that's different. Let's see, what would impress her?" Suddenly Jane shifted in his seat and looked very serious. If the other man had taken careful note, however, he would have seen the devilish gleam in his companion's eyes. "Well, she likes beekeeping."

" _Beekeeping_?"

"Uh huh. It's a hidden desire of hers – don't ever tell her I told you."

"Beekeeping," Mashburn looked slightly stunned. "O - kay – I guess I can find someone who keeps bees. What else?"

"Family picnics."

"Family picnics? I don't really have any family that I'm in contact with." He grinned. "They've all disowned me."

"Surprising."

"But _she_ must have family."

"They're in Chicago."

"Oh – well, I could fly them all out to Washington. She'd like that."

"Maybe – although you haven't met her family."

"Are they – awful?" Mashburn said, looking slightly worried.

"Oh no, not at all. It's just – when they catch wind that you're rich …"

"Freeloaders?"

Jane just shrugged. "I'm sure you'll get to like them. I expect Teresa would want them to live with you."

" _Live_ with us. Whoa! I haven't even asked _her_ to live with me yet."

"Yet? So you're planning to ask her?"

Walter sighed and leaned back. "Who knows – but she is an amazing woman. I probably couldn't do any better than her."

"No, you couldn't," Jane agreed.

"She's an interesting woman – she'd keep me on my toes."

"Yes, she is and she would."

"Maybe I'll give her a call. No – I think I'll just fly out to Washington and see her - surprise her, you know."

"If you fly to Washington to see her - it will be a surprise," Jane nodded.

"Do you think – will she like it?"

"Will she like what?"

"Having me surprise her."

"Uh – you never know with Teresa," he said, shrugging.

"I thought you knew her really well." Mashburn regarded him seriously for a minute. "You know, I always kind of wondered why you didn't go for her."

"Really? You wondered that did you?" Patrick took a sip of tea.

"Hey I'm sorry Patrick, I forgot about -" he gestured towards Jane's hand, which was sporting a wedding ring. "Obviously you weren't interested in her. I'm mean, you're clearly still -"

"Still - ?"

"Well – I know about your wife – so – grieving, I guess. I'm sure it would be hard to – uh – move on."

"It was," Jane nodded and took another sip of tea.

"It _was_?" Mashburn stared at him, an arrested look on his face. "You mean you _have_? Patrick, I didn't realize." He glanced at Jane's hand again. "Wait, that's a different ring, isn't it?" he looked down at Jane's hand. "I should have seen that."

"Very observant of you," Patrick nodded and lifted his hand, looking at the platinum band that adorned his finger. "Yes, it is."

"You got married again?"

"I did," Jane smiled as he put his hand down.

"Why congratulations! That's wonderful. You deserve to be happy. When did this happen? Was it someone you met in Venezuela? Or maybe some cute Texas woman."

"No, she's from here – at least this is where I met her."

"So – do I get to meet her?" Mashburn grinned and took a bite of pie.

"Patrick, did you order me my coffee?"

Mashburn spewed the pie practically across the table. It took him a moment to get himself under control, but then he looked at the person who had spoken. " _Teresa_!" He stood slowly. "I didn't know you were here. What -?" He frowned at the bundle she was carrying. "What's that?"

"My dear," Jane said, glancing at her with a grin. "Look who I ran into – Walter Mashburn!" Jane stood up and grabbed another chair and pulled it up to the table.

"Hi Walter," Teresa said, looking and sounding slightly tense as she moved to sit down. "What are you doing here?"

"Huh?" Walter continued to look at the small – now moving – bundle in Teresa's arms. "That's a baby."

"Here," Patrick stood again and reached down for the bundle. "Let me hold him while you have your coffee – iced _decaf_ coffee," he said to his wife's look of disgust. "But I also ordered you a piece of pie, which you'd better eat it before all the ice cream melts."

"Thank you," she smiled at him for the pie and then handed him the baby. "He's all clean and dry now."

"Hey little man," Patrick said, holding the baby up to his face and giving him a gentle kiss.

"Patrick – who is that?" Mashburn was regarding him with a frown.

Jane turned to him with a big smile as he sat down with the baby in his arms. "This? This is my son, Samuel."

"Your son?" He slowly swiveled in his chair and looked at Teresa, who was busy eating her pie and _not_ looking at him. "And I assume you're the mother?"

"Yes," she nodded, her eyes looking up – and down quickly.

"You and Patrick – you're married?" Mashburn said slowly, glancing between the two of them.

It was Jane who answered him as Teresa put a big spoonful of ice cream in her mouth.

"I'm sorry Walter, I didn't get a chance to tell you. Teresa and I got married last year."

Walter stared at him for a few seconds and then slowly shook his head. "You enjoyed that, didn't you?"

"Yes," Jane smiled, "Sorry – I couldn't really resist."

"Jane?" Teresa was looking between the two men, frown lines etched between her brows. "What's going on?"

"Mashburn didn't know we were married."

"He didn't tell me you'd had a baby either," Walter added. "Congratulations you two," he told them, not sounding particularly happy. "How old is it - he?"

"Thank you – and he's just six weeks old," Teresa answered. "Did Patrick tell you we're living in Texas now? We're just visiting friends here for a few days."

"He did. At least he told me _he_ was living in Texas. It was about the only thing he _did_ tell me," Walter said with a glare to the man now gently rocking his child. "You're with the FBI too I suppose?"

"Yes. Strange, isn't it. I thought I was going to be stuck in a small town in Washington for the rest of my career, but then Patrick came back and they offered us both a job."

"Wanted to keep him in line did they?" Walter began to smile.

"Yes, exactly."

"Hey, that is a totally false story," Patrick objected. "I told them I wouldn't work for them unless they offered Teresa a job so they did. They've now learned that it was the best decision they'd ever made."

Walter relaxed suddenly and grinned as he looked between the two of them. "I should have seen it," he told them, slowly shaking his head. "I never stood a chance, did I?"

"Nope," Patrick smiled and lifted his cup of tea in a salute. Teresa frowned and looked back and forth between the two men.

"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing," Patrick smiled at her.

Teresa clearly didn't believe him, giving him the wifely – wait until we get home and then you're going to tell me everything – look. But for now she let it drop.

"Beekeeping?" Mashburn suddenly said.

"You believed it," Jane pointed out.

Walter shook his head. "And she probably doesn't get seasick, does she."

"Oh yes, that's true."

The rich playboy leaned back in his chair and laughed. "You are one lucky bastard Patrick Jane, I hope you realize that."

"Every moment of every day," he said softly, looking first at Teresa and then down at his son.

"Good! Cause if you screw up, I'll be here."

"Mashburn, you need to find yourself a good woman – a strong, _smart_ woman – Teresa is already taken."

" _Jane_ ," his wife said in embarrassment. "He knows that."

"Just makin' sure. Hey, maybe we should have him meet Kim. I bet they'd hit it off."

"No," Walter stood up and pushed in his chair. "I'm perfectly capable of finding myself a good woman. Looking at what the two of you have – maybe it's time I did."

"I wish you all the best Mashburn," Jane nodded. "It was nice to see you."

"Yes Walter – it was nice," Teresa said, still looking uncomfortable.

Mashburn laughed again and leaned down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "For old times Teresa. Just make sure you keep Jane in line. Congratulations again. I'll see you around sometime. Patrick," he nodded his head and a moment later was gone.

"Well that was weird," Teresa said with a frown. "What were you talking about?"

"Oh, he's a little bit in love with you," her husband told her as he calmly sipped his tea, the baby sound asleep on his shoulder. "He wanted to look you up and see if you'd be interested in – getting to know him better."

Teresa stared at him for a few seconds and then snorted. "Right! Me and Walter Mashburn." She rolled her eyes and took a bite of pie. "Why would I want him when I've got you."

He grinned and settled back, enjoying the warmth of the California sun and the company of the two people he loved most in the world. He figured he was way richer then Walter Mashburn ever would be.


End file.
